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HANNAH SCOTT was born in slavery, in Alabama. She does not know her age but says she was grown when her
last master, Bat Peterson, set her free. Hannah lives with her grandson in a two-room house near the railroad tracks,
in Houston, Texas. Unable to walk because of a paralytic stroke, Hannah asked her grandson to lift her from the bed
to a chair, from which she told her story.
"Son. move de chair a mite closer to de stove. Dere, dat's better, 'cause de heat kind of soople me up. Ain't nothin'
left of me but some skin and bones, nohow.
"Lemme see now. I's born in Alabama and I think dey calls it Fayette County. Mama's name was Ardissa and she
'long to Marse Clark Eccles, but us chillen allus call him White Pa. Miss Hetty, his wife, we calls her White Mt.
"I never knowed my own pa, 'cause he 'long to 'nother man and was sold away 'fore I's old 'nough to know him.
Mama has five us chillen, but dey all dead 'ceptin' me. Dey didn't have no marriage back den like now, Dey just puts
black folks together in de sight of man and not in de sight of Gawd, and day puts dem asunder, too.
"Marse Eccles didn't have no big place and only nine slaves. I guess he what you calls 'poor folks.' but he mighty
good to he black folks. I 'member when he sold us to Bat, Peterson. He and White Ma break down and cry when old
Bat puts us in de wagon and takes us off to Arkansas. I heared mama say something 'bout White Pa sellin' us for
debt and he gits a hunerd dollars for me.
"Whoosh, it sho' was a heap dif'ent from Alabama. Marse Bat had niggers. I reckon he must of had a hunerd of dem
and two nigger drivers, Uncle Green and Uncle Jake, and a overseer. Marse Bat was mean, too, and work he slaves
from daylight till nine o'clock at night. I carries water for de hands. I carries de bucket on my head and 'fore long I
ain't got no more hair on my head dan you has on de palm of you hand. No, suh!
"When I gits bigger, de overseer puts me in de field with de rest. Marse Bat grow mostly cotton and it don't make no
dif'ence is you big or li'l, you better keep up or de drivers barn you up with de whip, sho' 'nough. Old Marse Bat
never put a lick on me all de years I 'longs to him, but de drivers sho' burnt me plenty times. Sometime I gits so
timed come night, I draps right in de row and gone to sleep. Den de driver come 'long and, wham, dey cuts you
'cross de back with de whip and you wakes up when it lights on you, yes, suh! 'Bout nine o'clock dev hollers 'cotton
up' and dat de quittin' signal. We goes to de quarters and jes' drap on de bunk and go to sleep without nothin' to eat.
"On old Bat's place dat all us know, is work and more work. De onlies' time we has off am Sunday and den we has
to wash and mend clothes. De first Sunday of de month a white preacher come, but all he say is 'bedience to de
white folks, and we hears 'nough of dat without him tellin' us.
"I 'member when White Pa come to try git mama and us chillen back. We been in Arkansas five, six year, and,
whoosh, I sho' wants to go back to my White
Pa, but old Bat wouldn't let us go. He come to our quarters dat night and tell mama if she or us chillen try to run off
he'll kill us. Dey sho' watch us for awhile.
"Sometimes one of de niggers runs off but he ain't gone long. He gits hongry and comes back. Den he gits a burnin'
with de bullwhip. Does he run 'way again, Marse Bat say he got too much rabbit in him and chains him up till he
goes to Little Rock and sells him.
"I heared some white folks treat dey slaves good and give dem time off, but Marse Bat don't. We has plenty to eat
and clothes, but dat all. Dat de way it was till we's freed, only it wasn't in Arkansas. It was down to Richmond, here
in Texas, 'cause Marse Bat rents a farm at Richmond. He thunk if he brung us to Texas he wouldn't have to set us
free. But he got fooled, 'cause a gov'ment man come tell us we's free. We had de crop planted and old Bat say, if
we'll stay through pickin' he'll pay us. Mama and us stayed awhile.
"I gits married legal with Richard Scott and we comes to Harrisburg and he gits a job on de section of de railroad. I's
lived here ever since. My husban' and me raises five chillen, but only de one gal am alive now. My grandson takes
care of me. He tells me iffen my husband lived so long, he be 107 years old. I know he was older dan me, but not
'xactly how much.
"Sometime I feel I's been here too long, 'cause I's paralyzed and can't move round none. But maybe de Lawd ain't
ready for me yet, and de Debbil won't have me.
Scott, Hannah -- Additional Interview
Hannah Scott: Situated close to the tracks of the Galveston, Houston & Henderson Ry. and approximately 150 yards
north of the Harrisburg depot, is a small two-room shack, the home of Hannah Scott. Born in Alabama during
slavery, Hannah, better known as "Grandma", does not know her exact age, but claims she was a "grown-up gal"
when she was set free by her last master, Bat Peterson. She and her husband, Richard Scott, came to Harrisburg
about four years after the close of the Civil War, and she has lived in this neighborhood ever since. Unable to move
around by herself because of a paralytic stroke, Grandma Scott is cared for by her grandson, who lifts her from her
bed and places her in a chair, from which she told her story.
"Son, move de chair a mite closer to de stove. Dere, dat's better, 'cause de heat kinder soople me up. Ain't nothing
lef' of me but some skin and bones nohow.
"Lemme see now. I was born in Alabama, and I think dey calls it Fayette County whar at White Pa had his place.
Mamma's name was Ardissa and she belong to Marse Clark Eccles, but we chillen allus call him white Pa and Mis'
Hetty, his wife, we calls her our White Ma.
"I 'members when I was little, I was out by de road playing, and some white folks say 'Who's your Marster?' I says,
'I ain't got none.' Dey say 'Who's your Mistress?' I says 'I ain't got none', and dey say 'Who de hell you got?' I tells
'em 'White Pa and White Ma, dat's who I got.'
"I never knowed my own Pa, 'cause he belong to another man and was sold away 'fore I was old enough to know
him. I guess I has see him, 'cause mamma has told me she has held me up to him when he had a pass to come see
her, and I would jabber, jabber to him, but I don't 'member nothing 'bout him, and mamma never see him no more
after he was sold away.
"Mamma has five of us chillen -- two was boys and three was girls, but dey is all dead now 'ceptin' me. I know dey
don't have no marriages back den like dey does now. Dey jes' puts black folks together in de sight of Man, and not
in de sight of God. Yes suh, de white folks put de slaves together, and puts 'em asunder too.
"Cose our Marster didn't have a very big place, and he only had 'bout nine slaves. I guess he what you call 'poor
folks', but he mighty good to his black folks. I's jes' a little gal when us belong to him, but I sure 'member 'bout him,
and I 'member jes' like it was yes'day when he sell us to Bat Peterson. He and White Ma jes' bust down and cry
when old Bat puts us folks in de wagon and takes us off to Arkansas. Mamma crys too and so us chillen do, too, 'til
old Bat shets us up.
"I don't 'member 'xactly how it come, but I hear mamma say something 'bout White Pa selling us for debt, and I
hears later White Pa gets a hunnerd dollars for me. I knows we travels a long time in de wagons 'fore we gits to
Marster Bat's place. 'Twan't fur from Little Rock, 'cause Marster Bat do his trading there.
"Whooosh, it sure was a heap dif'runt from de place in Alabama. Marster Bat had a big place, and he had de darkies,
I tell you, yes suh. I reckon he must have a hunnerd of 'em, and he had two nigger drivers what was called Uncle
Green and Uncle Jake, and a overseer.
"Marster Bat was mean, too, work de slaves from 'fore daylight to 9 o'clock in de night. At fust, 'fore I's put in de
field, I totes water for de hands. I carries de bucket on my head and 'fore long I ain't got no more hair on my head,
dan you has in de palm of your hand, no suh!
"When I gets bigger, de overseer puts me in de field with de rest. Marster Bat grows mostly cotton, and it don't
make no diffrunce is you big or little, you better keep up or de drivers burn you up with de whip sure 'nuff. Old
Marster Bat never put a lick on me all de years I belong to him, but de drivers sure burnt me plenty times.
Sometimes I gets so tired come night dat I has dropped right in de row and gone to sleep. 'Den de drivers come 'long
and wham, dey cuts you 'cross de back with de whip and you sure 'nuff wakes up when it lights on you, yes suh.
"'Bout 9 o'clock dey hollers 'cotton up', and dat's de quitting signal. We goes to de quarters, and sometimes jes' drop
on de bunk and go to sleep without nothing to eat.
"Yes suh, on old Bat's place dat's all us know is work and more work. 'Bout de onliest time we has off is Sunday,
and den we has to do de washing and mending clothes. De fust Sunday in de month when de weather is warm
enough we has a white preacher come to de place. All he preach 'bout is 'bedience to what de white folks tell us to
do, and we hears 'nough of dat without him telling us. I know we sing some songs at de meetings, but law me, it's
been so long ago I's done forget 'em all.
"I 'members when White Pa come to Marster Bat's place in Arkansas and try to get mamma and us chillen back.
We's been with Marster Bat maybe five er six years, and one day I comes in at night from de field, and mamma says
dat Marster Eccles what owned us in Alabama was up to de big house and she hear him say he wanted to buy us
back from Marster Bat. Mamma was a cook for Marster Bat and dat's how come she hear 'bout it.
"Whooosh! I sure wanted to go back to my White Pa, 'cause he was good to us, but old Marster Bat wouldn't let us
go, and he comes to our quarters that night and tells mamma if she or us chillen try to run away, he'll kill her. Dey
sure watch us for a while, 'cause Marster Bat scairt we try and run off.
"Sometimes one of de darkies runs off and hides out in de woods, but dey ain't gone long, 'cause dey gits hungry
and comes back, or de paddy-rollers fotch 'em back. Den dey gets a burning with de bullwhip. Does one run away
de second time, Marster Bat say he's got too much 'rabbit' in him, and when he gits caught, 'sides getting a burning,
old Marster chains him up 'til he has time to go to Little Rock, den he takes de 'rabbit' darky with him and sells him
off.
"I hears some of de white folks what owned slaves treat 'em good, and give 'em time off and ground what dey can
work, but Marster Bat he jes' believe in working his darkies all de time. We had plenty to eat, and plenty warm
clothes in de winter time, but we sure has to work. Ain't no foolishness going on 'round his place, no suh, jes' work
and more work.
"Old Marster Bat comes to de field most all de time during de cotton time, and sometimes he gives me little pinch of
tobacco. Law me, when I gits a piece of dat in my mouth, I sure show de other darkies how to pick de cotton. Den
Marster Bat jes' laugh and tell de 'drivers' to stir de ones up with de whip what ain't keeping up.
"Yes suh, dat's jes' 'bout de way it was 'til we was freed by de Gov'ment, only we wasn't freed in Arkansas. No suh,
it was down to Richmond here in Texas, 'cause Marster Bat runs us all out of Arkansas in March and rents a farm at
Richmond on de Brazos, 'cause he thinks if he brings us to Texas he don't have to turn us loose like dey is doing in
Arkansas. But he got fooled, 'cause de Gov'ment men comes and makes him tell us we is all jes' as free as he is, and
dat was in June before we has even made a single crop. Yes suh, dat's jes' what dey did.
"We had de crop planted and it was chopping time and old Bat tell us if we stay through picking, he pay us. Cose he
didn't have all de slaves what he had brought from Arkansas, 'cause he had hired some of 'em to work on other
places 'round Richmond. But mamma and us chillen and some more stayed, and old Bat rented us some ground and
we stayed on it three years 'til I gets married.
"I gits married legal with Richard Scott, but folks call him Dick. We comes to Harrisburg and he gits a job on de
section of de railroad, and I's lived right here in Harrisburg since den. Cose he was raised up 'round Houston 'cause
he belong to de Shepherds what lived here, dat's how come he gits de job, 'cause jobs sure was scarce and so was
money after de war was over.
"Whooosh, it sure was wild when we comes to Harrisburg, with woods all 'round and dey jes' full of wildcats, and
bears and wolves. But it was safer dan in Houston,--dat sure was a pow'ful wicked place, folks gitting killed and
black folks didn't have no pertection. Dey was safer in slave times.
"My husband and me raise five chillen, one boy and four girls, but only one daughter is 'live now, but my
grandchillen looks after dere old grandma.
"My grandson tell me if my husband live 'til now, he'd be 107 years old. He died in 1917 and I know he was older'n
me, but I don't know 'xactly how much.
"Sometime I feel I's been here too long, 'cause I's paralyzed and can't move 'round none, but maybe de Lord ain't
ready for me yet, and de Debbil won't have me, and dat's why I guess I's still here."
(Hatcher, Letha K., P.W., Jasper, Jasper, Dist. 3, 02 August 1937, (No))
